


The Art of Dating

by uofmdragon



Series: CC Trope Bingo [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Journalism, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 08:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20703044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/pseuds/uofmdragon
Summary: A glimpse in the life of art student Clint Barton and up and coming Shield News journalist Phil Coulson





	The Art of Dating

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to do [CC Trope Bingo](https://cctropebingo.tumblr.com/) and then threw in two random AUs, which were Art School AU and Journalist AU
> 
> Beta by lapillus

"Clint," Phil called as he eyed their small kitchen, searching the countertops, top of the fridge, the stupid open cabinets (cabinet doors were a must for the next place) for his lunch bag. With Clint still in school, they needed to save money, which meant Phil needed to pack his lunch as much as possible. 

A snore came the darkened living room, a genuine one, not one of Clint's fake ones that used to make when he was avoiding a conversation with Phil. The living room had once again become Clint's art studio as the semester wore on and Phil was afraid to venture into the darkness to shine a light in there since finals were approaching? Here? Phil glanced at the wipe board with their calendar on it, which held no useful information, just a drawing of Natasha, looking fierce, which had been on the calendar for several months. 

Finals were soon and thankfully, they should be the last finals for Clint. The last time, he'd passed out working in the living room on a project. Phil just hoped that Clint hadn't spilled supplies on the couch (new place, new couch) when he'd fallen asleep and that he'd actually made it to the couch, instead of falling asleep on the floor. Clint had a dropcloth for the floor (they were getting their deposit back on this place, damnit).

No lunch bag and either Phil had forgot it at the office or Clint had absconded with it for some part of his project. Phil glanced in the fridge and there was definitely not anything that Phil would want to eat without an icepak or being refrigerated, and since Phil was going to head straight to Stark Industries for interview with Ms. Potts that no lunch unless he bought something afterwards. 

Sighing, Phil grabbed his breakfast burrito out of the microwave and headed out the door. He pondered waking Clint, but Clint was good about setting an alarm on his phone to ensure he made it to wherever he needed to go. He might show up in yesterday's clothes (more than likely yesterday's clothes were also yesterday's yesterday's clothes), but he would get there. 

*

Phil dropped down into his desk chair, cradling his coffee. He idly spun in his chair as he waited for the computer to boot up, glaring when he spotted his lunch bag, but grateful that he hadn't had time to write a note accusing Clint of absconding with it for an art project. Clint had a damn reputation about snagging something of Phil's in the middle of the night without thinking if Phil would need it in the morning and or forgetting to tell Phil he had, because he'd done it when he was zombie creating. Clint got defensive when he innocent. Phil would need to remember it today.

"Hey," a voice said to Phil's left. He spun the chair and wasn't too surprised to see Steve, arms dangling into Phil's cubicle from where he was leaning against the wall. "How'd it go?"

"Stark showed up mid-interview," Phil admitted, taking a sip of his coffee.

Steve winced. "Well, at least you got half an interview?"

Phil nodded. "Yeah, and it's not like it's hard hitting journalism."

"Boss wants a fluff piece."

"Boss gets a fluff piece."

Steve grinned at him. "Should help repair our relationship after the smeer job Rumlow did."

"I'd like to know how it got past the editors," Phil groused. 

Steve huffed a laugh. "Yeah."

"Still, Pepper was nice. When Stark started having his hissy fit, she sent me a tour, so… I was actually able to finish the interview."

Steve smiled widely. "Nice work!"

Phil felt his cheeks heat and he glanced away. "So…"

"Oh, Clint was here looking for you."

Phil turned back to Steve, arching an eyebrow. "When?"

"Like an hour ago. He was with Tasha. Said he was trying to get a hold of you, but your phone was off?"

"I was in an interview," Phil said, reaching into his pocket to turn it back on.

"Yeah, well, said something about lunch," Steve said.

Phil's stomach gurgled as he frowned. "I forgot my lunchbox and there was nothing I trusted leaving in the car in this heat."

Steve nodded. "If it was winter…"

"Well, it's a fucking hot May. This summer is going to be horrible and…"

"Sam and I want good beer if it's above 90. Craft and a six pack for each of us."

Phil nodded, because he didn't want to move when it got above 90. Still, moving was dependant on Clint getting a job. To do that, he needed to pass his classes and graduate. "I'm going to try to avoid that if at all possible."

"I know," Steve agreed, looking past Phil. His voice rose. "Well, speak of the devil."

"Hey Steve," Clint called. "Heard from Phil?"

"He's back," Steve said, looking down at Phil. Phil spun toward his cubicle entrance to see Clint come around the corner. 

His eyes were slightly red and he slouched against the cubicle wall. Still, he smiled when their eyes met, lighting up his face. "Hey Phil."

"Hey," Phil said, getting out of his chair. Clint leaned in and met Phil, pressing his lips against Phil's for a brief, work appropriate kiss. Phil pulled away, attempting to discreetly check to see if Clint showered today. Judging by the lack of body odor, he had!

Clint snorted as Phil pulled away, so he probably hadn't fooled Clint. 

"What brings you here?" Phil asked. "Again?"

"Well, besides moving things out of the apartment and the art show next week," Clint paused, raising his voice so Steve could hear it. "At seven at the University Art Center, formal wear encouraged." He lowered his voice. "Tasha and I are done, so we decided to go out for lunch to celebrate. I texted, called, and showed up here to invite you."

Phil nodded. "I had an interview."

"So Steve said," Clint said.

"And I forgot my lunch bag here."

"So I noticed." Clint's eyes went past Phil's shoulder. No doubt looking at the lunch box, before looking back at him. "And considering the state of our fridge, I'm guessing you didn't bring a lunch."

"I did not." Phil agreed.

"Did you stop on your way back to the office?"

"I didn't know I had a reason to celebrate," Phil said. He hadn't gone to see if Fury had had a meeting and there were leftovers too mooch off of either.

"So I brought you lunch," Clint said, pulling a bag from behind his back.

Phil smiled. "I love you."

"You don't even know what it is," Clint replied.

"I don't care, you have food and right now, I'd proclaim my love for Jasper if he offered me food."

"Well, we can't have that," Clint said, offering the bag to Phil.

He took it and smiled, spotting the doodle Clint had put on the bag. Phil pulled the box out of it and eyed the contents through the clear top container - bento box and a philly roll from their favorite japanese restaurant. He looked back up at Clint's adoring look. "I really do love you."

Clint leaned down and kissed him again. "You're really going to love me, because I'm going to go to the Farmer's market and the store and stock up on some essentials. Then I'm going to make dinner tonight."

"Except I know you're only making dinner, so you can avoid cleaning the living room," Phil said as he cracked open the sushi box and snagged a piece. 

When he looked up Clint was giving him an innocent expression. "Would I, Clint Barton, the love of you life, do that?"

"You would and you've done it every semester, since we moved in together."

Clint shrugged. "I guess that's true. I should let you eat and get back to work. I'll see you later?"

"I'll come straight home," Phil promised, popping the piece into his mouth.

"Bye Phil."

Phil waved, waiting for Clint to turn, so that the could watch Clint's butt as we walked away. Once Clint was gone, he turned back to his lunch with a happy little sigh. He really needed to put a ring on that soon. Maybe this fall, when he didn't have to help buy a fuckton of art supplies for the semester.


End file.
